Blank Muse
by auraborealiis
Summary: The Joker's found his latest project. JokerRachel.
1. I

AN – This story will alternate chapter-wise between the Joker and Rachel's POV respectively. Also, the Joker's POV will be written in haiku form (because I feel haiku suits the Joker's thinking style).

**I**

Too easily how  
Me, my gang break into the  
Penthouse of Bruce Wayne.

Wayne must have his head  
Far _up there_ to be this lax  
In alarm systems.

A city like this  
Needs headlines other than burlap  
And a drunk playboy.

Scarecrow and Bruce Wayne.  
Tomorrow, their press coverage  
Will belong to ME.

Yet I'm _so_ annoyed.  
Wayne the cheapskate denies me  
Blood, the thrills I crave.

Now I have an itch  
Crawling up and down my back  
From self-frustration.

I shoot the ceiling  
To calm down and show I'm on  
Serious business.

The itch gets worse but,  
Though there's plaster on my head,  
At least I _scared _them.

I can't take much more.  
I must kill someone and it  
Doesn't matter who.

But first I need to  
Introduce myself so they  
Know who owns their lives.

"Good evening, ladies  
And gentlemen," I grit out  
Between bared molars.

My gang gets the cue.  
They surround the guests like flies  
Sticking to honey.

Tension smokes the air,  
Almost as tasty as the  
Shrimp appetizers.

I don't remember  
If I ate shrimp before this.  
Whatever, it's good.

My thoughts drift back to  
What I was _supposed_ to be  
Doing at this time.

True, I'm a real show  
And loving it. However,  
There's a man to find.

Making them aware,  
I order my one question.  
"Where is Harvey Dent?"

Nothing but silence  
And that damn itch comes back strong,  
Becoming an ache.

I roll my eyes up.  
Weird rich people, being hard yet  
Wanting it easy.

The party is now  
A fish bowl. They gape when I  
Repeat about Dent.

"You know where Dent is?"  
Since hitting fails, I use jokes.  
"You know _what_ Dent is?"

Some moldy old fart  
Dares to say he's unimpressed  
With my first-class act.

I give as I get.  
My knife tells him everything  
Pressed against his throat.

Suddenly, I hear  
A cry from behind. "Stop it!"  
Ugh, how distracting.

I rotate around  
My neck to glance the pre-corpse  
That opened their mouth.

It is a woman  
Who looks familiar -- oh, right.  
I've seen her with Dent.

She tells me to let  
The old fart go and I do.  
I'm onto fresh prey.

I then inspect her  
Like the little lamb she is.  
The itch is long gone.

What a _specimen_.  
Prettily formed and packaged,  
Just how I want it.

Sweet-faced, exactly  
As females should be: soft and  
Fragile in my hands.

Imagine the fun  
Of molding her to my tastes,  
Carving her a _smile_.

Makes my mouth water.  
Ah, the possibilities.  
"Hello beautiful."


	2. II

miss coconuts – Thank you for thinking it's interesting! The story's going to get pretty dark fast, starting with this chapter…

01031989 – Glad to know the Joker's all right so far character-wise. Thank you!

Mifey – Yeah, I'm trying to. This is the first time I've ever written anything in haiku of this length. I sometimes lose track of the amount of syllables so thanks for letting me know of this. :)

Emily Hargreaves – Thank you very much!

D, quicksilver2402004 – Thanks for your comments!

Dolze, XPrettyXWomanX17X, Gopher, DisturbedBeauty – Thank you for liking the Joker haiku. :)

Taylor – I can't believe this fic was actually recommended by someone. Thank you for reading it!

eliza a. – Thank you for thinking so highly of this story. :D

**II**

This can't be happening, this can't be happening, this can't be happening. As cliché as it sounds, I wish it's a dream or more appropriately, some twisted nightmare. I mean, how could a party dedicated to your soon-to-be-husband Harvey Dent's success as district attorney of Gotham City morph into a hostage situation by a bunch of gun-wielding clowns? Isn't there something_ wrong_ with that picture?

To top it off, having their leader single you out for actually displaying concern towards your fellow human beings -

Wait a minute. Is he...smoothing out his hair?

This man…this _creature_…I don't know what to call him. He doesn't look human, more like one of those "Death's Head" images personified. Dull white face paint splattering his visage combined with black paint giving him raccoon circles for eyes remind me markedly of a skull. Adding more morbid curiosity to his appearance, if possible, is that tattered red line connecting his cheeks that's supposed to be a mouth. The nearer to me he gets, I can make out deep scarring along the area even the cherry-hued lipstick couldn't completely cover up. And the bizarreness doesn't stop at the neck; his _outfit_…that purple, crazy-quilt suit…that, in itself, is something _else_. After only seeing him, the _Joker_ before I forget, on a television screen, I realize high-definition can never capture his demonic intensity from real life. It has to be experienced first-hand and that experience is unfortunately one of mine.

Now here he is and here am I, a few feet separating us and growing smaller with each step his dirty shoes take. What is he doing in the name of god? I hear he's unpredictable but this is outrageous. He does not need to be this close to ask where Harvey is. There must be something more, I just know it…

For all my time wondering, the Joker gobbles my remaining personal space and I feel his unexpectedly cool breath fan my skin. Before I'm conscious of what it is, the sensation vanishes for the Joker starts circling me as a vulture would with a carcass. I can tell his gaze is on me despite me obviously not having 360 degree vision. It's an instinctive thing which is strange because I'm never one for instinct. However, there is nothing in me that questions how anxious I'm getting the longer he's sustaining this "observation" of sorts. I can't imagine what it will lead up to. Is he thinking of how he's going to kill me? Just for interrupting him?

My shoulders encounter a random pressure upon them from the back and I would jump were it not for the strict control I place over my reflexes. As it turns out, it's the Joker's hands that cause it, gripping me to the point where his nails would definitely leave marks if they weren't covered by leather gloves. The Joker himself is confirmed when his head brushes against my own, settling between it and my shoulder. I try my hardest to be as still as I can; I don't want him to see me vulnerable. Then those oppressive hands of his pull me flush into a lean yet wiry torso and I clamp my eyes shut.

There really is no escape. I can sense the Joker everywhere and god help me, it's _terrifying_. He's close enough to cause suffocation, close enough so that I'm forced to acknowledge he's as physically alive as I am and not a walking corpse, far from any hallucinated bogeyman. A person who's been given such descriptions shouldn't feel this real in the first place.

I breathe with bated breath as the Joker shifts, leaning his rotting head further over my shoulder, his warm lips grazing my jugular vein. Does he take me as _literal _prey? I'm not sure if I'll be able to stomach the answer. The Joker, seemingly wanting to prove that assumption, inhales deeply, generating countless shivers throughout my body and in response, my eyes snap wide open. His rumbling growl afterwards creates tremors that travel onto me due to our stifling proximity. During these theatrics, I dare not move an inch, partly from fear of course, partly from disbelief at how could this _happen_, and partly, I'll grudgingly admit, from fascination at his unrestrained behavior in front of all these people. It's truly unlike anything I have ever seen.

Again, I fail to keep track of the Joker's odd rhythm of movement and so I'm unprepared when he jerkily spins me around to face him. On a "bright" note, I finally receive his facial features at a better viewpoint. This is horrible but...I'm drawn towards him on a greater level than rather entirely shutting him off. Electricity literally flows about his figure, though it's a scary kind, and it thrills me. I guess his power to inspire awe in others is why it's possible for him to run his own gang in spite of his chaotic nature.

Dragging me to him till we're a breath apart, the Joker cradles my head in a disturbingly intimate gesture. "Say," he begins low and husky, addressing me at last. Ruthlessly, his dark eyes blaze a trail past my inner defenses. They manage to put me in a daze until it's too late to register the knife digging into my throat, on the area where he had his lips no less. The surrounding party guests share themselves in my latest shock of the evening.

"..._you_ wouldn't happen to know where Dent is, do you?" the Joker casually asks while not-so-casually prodding the blade's tip underneath the base of my chin. I'm officially positive I'm a goner and -

No, damn it! I'm _not_ going to be a victim anymore! I'm _not _that same woman from two years ago, I've changed! This is no different than the toxin or the Narrows Attack. I've been through too much to remain this way. I have to be strong for everyone here, for Harvey…for Bruce.

Summoning my courage, I offer the Joker a fierce glare in return for the one he's presenting me, ignoring the pain the knife is causing. "He went home_,_" I state confidently, proud that my skills as a lawyer manage to provide a plausible excuse for Harvey's absence and prouder still that I don't stumble on issuing it. "He got sick...and he _left_."

The Joker withdraws his knife, moving back a couple of steps, and for a moment, I believe I fool him. He looks at me, expression deadpan as I earnestly hope mine is. Nevertheless, I feel fresh pangs of uncertainty when the Joker slowly bends his neck down to meet my height. "You look nervous," he whispers before flicking his tongue like a serpent. I flinch, not bothering to hide my disgust.

"Are you sure?" the Joker drawls on. "Why would _Dent _leave his date unattended?"

Uneasiness fills my gut; I remain silent. My lie's been caught and we're both aware of it for how can I counterattack such a valid factor?

The Joker gives me a knowing smile. "_Well_," he cocks his head to the side, playing with the word, "maybe 'Mister Dent,'" the Joker nods over to the right in suggestion, "won't mind if I..." Deliberately holding back the end of his sentence, the Joker uses the self-made pause to teasingly raise his eyebrows. "...treat myself?"

Future inquiries are not present now from this woman. It's clear as crystal from his hooded leer and grab at the sleeve of my dress what he wants and frankly, I'll be having none of it. Enough is enough.

"Get away from me!" I yelp, smacking at the Joker's wandering hand with all the strength I have, the second time in my life I've actively expressed anger. There will be hell for resisting him, I'm sure.

Surprisingly, my act of defiance doesn't affect the Joker's mood whatsoever. He simply hoists himself to his feet and laughs. "A little fight in you," he says, licking his lips, "I like that."


	3. III

miss coconuts – The impression I got with Rachel was that she would be attracted (at least a little) to guys with a presence, judging her romantic feelings for Bruce Wayne/Batman and Harvey Dent, so the Joker really wouldn't be any different. 'Course, this attraction's temporary lol.

Janina90 – Nice to know I struck a balance between the two. Thank you!

TheAngryPrincess13 – I got around to seeing the movie a couple of days ago. Though it left me tired from all the action, I enjoyed every minute of it. Heath Ledger's acting deserves all the praise and glory it can get.

Zule – I too found that scene intriguing. That's partially the reason why I wrote this fanfic actually (apart from it being a good chance at character study).

Wicked1Forever077 – Yeah the Joker is HARD to write. It's tough at times trying to match him to Heath Ledger's brilliant interpretation.

M. B. Jones – I think that haiku and the Joker's thoughts are similar in that they both have unusual breaks in sentences and are brief and fleeting which is why I specifically chose the haiku format. I just can't write the Joker in prose, it doesn't sound right to me.

Locked Heart Ami – You're right. I tried to cut down on the number of unnecessary italics as much as I could. Thanks for the advice; I appreciate constructive criticism. :)

Kendra Luehr – I understand completely how you feel. I'm surprised that there are practically NO fanfics about this pairing, especially since the movie came out and everything.

yatsirch – I don't get the OC bandwagon in this fandom either. o.O There's really no need for OCs in Batman since there are plenty of love interests like that from the comics, at least from the many I've read so far. I really wish more people wrote about Rachel though/include Rachel in their fanfic.

Argus Apocraphex – The shrimp thing had me giggling too writing it lol.

angi1612, avaneman, CompleteSolitude, aLeX, Jinsuke-Ollie, evildolly, FallOutBoyOwnsMySoul, AutomaticLove, quicksilver2402004, DisturbedBeauty – Thank you very much for commenting and liking this story.

And to everyone else reading this, I thank you likewise. Enjoy!

**III**

When was it since a  
_Woman_ hit me hard enough  
To have me taste blood?

It's captivating.  
I thought she was the type who  
Couldn't but she _did_.

She's special, this one.  
I must carefully choose  
The ways she'll suffer.

Laughter escapes me,  
Too excited, can't stop it.  
I adore roughhouse.

I tell her I do  
Just to see her reaction,  
To push her buttons.

She adjusts her sleeve  
Like nothing happened. Elsewhere,  
Her eyes are honest.

Those baby-blues show  
How unnerved she is. More, MORE!  
I want _more_ of it --

Who should interrupt  
My words but tall, dark, and cloaked?  
"Then you will love me."

So there's the Batman.  
Not sure if he minds nicknames.  
Can I call him "Bats?"

He lunges at me,  
A black whirlwind of fury.  
_Finally_, my fight!

Two of my henchmen  
Lock him in submission to  
Balance both our odds.

Kicking Bats is fun  
Until he catches my foot  
As I discover.

Bats frees himself quick.  
It would seem that his bite is  
Fiercer than his bark.

While Bats knocks away  
More henchmen, I disappear  
Into the ruckus.

Being familiar with  
Hysteria has assets:  
I see the woman.

Still no sight of Dent.  
You think molesting his dame  
Would have him turn up.

Or maybe the Bat  
_Is_ Dent 'cause Bats seems mighty  
Possessive of her.

Either way, I'll deal  
With it later. Main goal is  
Getting my hostage.

She doesn't notice  
So it's easy to snatch and  
Put a gun to her.

Lucky, I always  
Carry an extra pistol.  
Too bad Bats sees this.

"Drop the gun," he grunts.  
That Bats, does he think I will  
_This_ point in the game?

If I can't shoot for  
The moon then let me at least  
Take one of the stars.

No one interferes,  
Not even Bats. He can't move  
Without gambling life.

Leaving the building  
Is quiet. The woman keeps  
Her mouth shut, afraid.

"What's your name?" I ask  
For I feel she'll entertain  
Me longer than most.

She says it's "Rachel."  
Outside, my van is waiting  
To hitch us a ride.

"Rachel" tries struggling  
But I have a _special_ friend  
And it's chloroform.

Ordering my men  
To shove her in the trunk, we  
Hop in and drive off.

I'm behind the wheel,  
Hooting the whole way through. The  
Mission's a success.

Tonight's events played  
Themselves well: commissioner,  
Judge, knocked down like pins.

Sleeping Beauty too.  
She makes me grin. If she knows  
What I've planned for her...


	4. IV

Bleak December – Thanks! I tried to connect the timeline of the movie with my fanfiction to make it more natural.

miss coconuts – Oh believe me, Rachel's suffering truly starts this chapter (just to warn you in advance).

TheAngryPrincess13 – Damn right he does (I think I'll cry if he doesn't at least get the nomination for Best Supporting Actor)! Thank you!

Anon. – Thank you. This is the first fanfic I've done that switches POVs so I wasn't really sure how it would turn out.

quicksilver2402004 – Thank you for liking this fanfic so far. :)

CompleteSolitude, PhantasmBunny, Amaruk Wolfheart of the Wraith, Rachel, M.B. Jones, moonservant, O. Rose, vibra, DisturbedBeauty – Thank you so much for liking the Joker haiku/portrayal! :D

WARNING! From here, the story gets very dark and freaky! Enjoy...

**IV**

Ah, my head…why does it hurt so much? I blink my eyes rapidly in equal attempts to concentrate and to dull the ache; after achieving just the first, I give up on the latter. Hey, my limbs ache too. What's going on?

I try to remember but remembering is hard when you're dizzy enough to slip into unconsciousness like - oh! Memories stampede over any drowsiness I have left: the party, the gun, the van, the rag on my face...the Joker! It was _him_! He kidnapped me and brought me...where?

Funny how my eyes are open and their pitchy surroundings haven't changed after being closed. How troublesome that my senses are so muddled even though I _am_ getting them back, starting with my sight. Well, no wonder I can't see a thing; the Joker was "kind" enough to blindfold me. I can't believe I couldn't feel the cloth there several seconds ago. I must've really been out of it. No time to worry about that, though. If the Joker kidnapped me, it's logical to deduce that he's lurking somewhere nearby.

"Where are you?" I demand to the darkness. "Where am I?"

Silence echoes back. Then I hear his voice.

"Everywhere...and nowhere..."

I gnash my teeth. His impudent retorts are grating what exists of my patience. "I said 'where are you?'"

The response is a noise now: footsteps. The Joker couldn't have been exceptionally far in distance for they soon come to a halt. Familiar leather gloves flutter around my neck to meet at the tie of the blindfold. Carefully undoing it, the hands tug the blindfold away, allowing me to confront the object of my torment, the "Death's Head," again. The lack of illumination makes him ghostlier than ever.

My own hand goes to slap the Joker to repeat history but I'm unable to move it. Confused, I visually follow up my arm and discover...it's _handcuffed _to the ceiling, pair joining it. The chain is nailed through three of its links. Ripples of panic sweep over me; my gaze grows huge and darts to my feet. They aren't spared either for a long bar simultaneously holds them in place and spreads them apart.

A choked gasp emerges from my throat. I thrash against my newly found bonds despite knowing it's useless. Figures the Joker would think of something creatively sick. I never meant it more.

Meanwhile, the Joker watches and waits for me to tire and slump which I inevitably do. He brings his head close; I twist mine away, not wanting to witness what he'll accomplish after orchestrating me in this dreadful position. My futile actions don't hinder him. Rather, they "aid his genius" and lay out new options for him to improvise. He lazily exhales on the half of my face exposed to him and I receive an overwhelming smell of his breath: musky, decaying, and pungent as wilted flowers.

"You're more_ pathetic _than I would've thought."

I turn my head forward, stunned.

The Joker puts a gloved hand dramatically to his temple. "How disappointing. I was hoping you'd put up a fight but," he sighs so heavily, it's more like a cough, "you're a scared girl."

That does it. That's the final straw. My temper, churning and frothing during this roller coaster ride of misfortune, boils over like molten lava. How dare he continue underestimating me, the bastard!

"You're wrong!" I shake my head, barely keeping my tone in check. Hot tears build from my eyes and threaten to leak. "I'm not scared of you! You'll never get me to talk! I'd rather die!"

Finishing, I pant, angrily regarding the Joker to see if any impression had been made on him. Seems the Joker's mostly unaltered in that department though there could be what amounts to a twitch of curiosity in his features. "Big words for a little lady. Death..._fear_..." He savors the sound of the last with a smirk. Quickly as the smirk is etched, it's erased and the Joker's face turns solemn. "Tell me, do you have any idea what those words mean?"

I hold my tongue for caution's sake. What kind of answer could he possibly want me to deliver anyway? He can't be serious...oh yeah, he never is. Forget it.

Mistaking my choice to not reply for ignorance, the Joker declares, "Thought so! Good decent person like yourself, what would _you_ know of that?

A fond smile creeps onto the Joker's face, reminiscent of a child's innocent crush. "Silly," he murmurs almost patronizingly, "I don't care whether or not you talk."

I stare at him. "What?" Did I hear him right? Why would he then -

"Piece is in place, no worries." The Joker, still smiling, ruffles my hair, interrupting my train of thought. "I promise you'll live a while longer."

"_What_?" I shrilly repeat, mental alarm bells ringing. "You mean you're going to torture me?"

The hand ruffling my hair startlingly tightens its hold. "Haven't you noticed we're the only ones in this room?" the Joker quietly asks.

Naturally provoked by the information, I scan the room for the first time. The Joker's right; it's totally empty. It doesn't even have windows and there's a dank stench that's but recently reaching my nostrils. The more aware I am of how dark and filthy the room is, the more an onslaught of claustrophobia spreads my brain.

"I told them to go away." The Joker draws his mouth to my ear. "I wanted us to be alone, sweetie pie."

I shudder. Cutesy endearments sound terrible coming from him, like parodies of themselves. Is that what he's seeking to instill? What's really troubling is the fact that he didn't tell his own gang where he hid me. He was extra careful, for some unfathomable reason, against anyone interfering with whatever he wants to do. I _still_ don't know what specifically he has in mind to use me for other than bait.

"And I wouldn't call it torture," adds the Joker to what I said previously, "more like..._artistic expression_," he hisses, soft yet intense, in a way I've never encountered with him until this moment. His scratchy breath isn't what's giving me these chills. It's the finality of his message.

When the Joker adjusts himself from me, I find myself in an emotional tailspin. This is too much to bear. No one knows where I am besides you-know-who. I have absolutely no control over my life now; it's truly in the palm of his hand. One swipe of his deft fingers and a glimmer of steel and that'll be the end of me.

The uninvited vision of it haunts me to the extent that I faintly register what the Joker is saying next. "Aw, what's the matter?" he coos like I'm an infant, happily content I'm distressed. "Upset the Batman hasn't flown by to save you?

Then, faster than traffic lights, the Joker's demeanor switches to thoughtfully intrusive. "Do you think he will?"

I make no effort to humor him. As far as I'm concerned, I'm good as dead already. And when last it was reported, the dead don't talk.

"Now_ honey_," the Joker's coaxing is soured by an undercurrent of irritation as he squishes my cheeks and forcibly tilts my head to align it with his, "don't act that way." Satisfied that I'm upholding his existence, he lets go but not before tracing a lingering line along my jaw. "We can't play if you act that way," he sings the rhyme mockingly. "Therefore," still talking, the Joker starts to walk backwards towards the door like it's perfectly normal, "I'm leaving an itty bit to...let you enjoy yourself here...alone." He "walks," in the orthodox method of the term, when he reaches halfway to his destination; in other words, when he's done speaking to me.

Alone…something about "alone" causes my stomach to flip-flop. Alone in a space akin to a vortex, draining the energy out of me and itself…hard as it is to accept, the Joker staying with me is not a vice. It helps me temporarily forget the cuffs cutting my wrists and the weight stretching my legs, ignoring that this is _his_ doing…but to be _alone_…

I decide to amplify my worries from my vocal cords. "When will you come back?"

The Joker stops in his tracks. "Oh," he raises his wrist to look at an imaginary watch, "in a few hours, days, weeks, months, years."

My mouth drops in utter horror at the connotations of my predicament revealed in his comment. I can't move...I can't get any food or drink...I can't go to the bathroom...all the daily necessities I take for granted. The Joker will have me dependent on him for that and he'll care on a whim since his attention span is zero...especially if he forgets he has me here. God, a snowball's chance in hell is _better_ than my chance of surviving this.

His focus briefly returning to me, the Joker notices the state I'm in and grins broadly, showcasing yellowed teeth that could convincingly be double rows of corn kernels. "Bye!" he chirps while frantically waving. The door slams shut behind him, blocking the light beyond it.


	5. V

twilighter – Huh? Rachel's not an original character. o.O

moonservant – Yeah I'm trying to be true to the darkness of the Joker's character. I believe getting kidnapped by him would hardly be called a pleasant experience. But I understand, it's quite freaky seeing it in print.

CompleteSolitude – The tension's going to increase come next chapter. Nice to know I got Rachel's reaction to the situation she's in realistically. Thank you.

Little Miss Molly – What would he be if he wasn't lol?

glove cmprtmnt – Indeed it is, heh.

Anon. – Aw don't mention it. :) Yeah it's hard at times writing Joker haiku, particularly in this chapter. I would've posted it sooner if writer's block didn't keep me down.

ledgerlove – There may not be many now but the numbers are growing. :)

miss coconuts – I can't imagine it either; it would definitely suck on every level. Well since it's confirmed that the Joker sees people as expendable, it's not really much of a surprise to me.

Kendra Luehr – He most definitely would (to keep her on her toes and all that). But you never know...

tristesses – Thank you very much! Looking at the script alone, I never really saw the character of Rachel as a weakling. I mean, she does carry a taser in Batman Begins.

Beaver1500 – Oh you'll find that out chapter 6 when I upload it.

Argus Apocraphex – Wow, thanks!

wolf firez – Thank you. I'm flattered. :D

Lalana – I'm glad I've got The Joker/Rachel's characterizations down. Thank you for liking how they are in this fanfiction.

DisturbedBeauty – Poor Rachel indeed!

The Phantom Lady, 01031989, JeanieBeanie33, Celis09, Rachelle123, BluLollEE, MuffinsNMalice – Thanks for your wonderful comments!

The chapter here is more of a filler/advancing-plot kind, a 'calm before the storm' of sorts before chapter 6 (which I promise will be longer so bear with me till then).

**V**

Locking the door, I  
Chuckle over how _she_ is.  
Her face is priceless!

I wonder what else  
Out of her I can get  
After my errands.

Few hours to morn.  
The skyline's crimson like the  
State I'll leave Gotham.

I skip on account  
It's daylight yet too early.  
I don't have to sneak.

On my way, I pass  
The reservoir which could be  
Good to dump bodies.

My cell-phone beeps and  
I answer. The new recruit  
Rasps, "Job done," and hangs.

Killing those two cops  
Is belated April Fools.  
Names spell "Harvey Dent."

The rest of today  
Is blah but prepare first and  
_Explosions_ follow.

I write a letter,  
Dropping it at the station  
With corrected news.

Fine letter, it is.  
I recite it to my ears  
And it goes like this.

"'Bats, Dent, whoever:  
Don't mean to be bugging you  
But I have your girl.

I've hid her away  
Where you would least likely think.  
Location's secret.

She's standing pretty  
Instead of sitting since I  
Don't want her lazy.

Who knows what I want?  
My needs aren't set in stone.  
Neither is her fate.

You're right, she's a catch.  
Sometimes, just gazing at her  
Gives me _ideas_.

No one likes used goods  
So I'm giving you heads-up  
Before damages.

If you wish for your  
Product in one piece, you should  
Throw in the towel.

Scratch that, go _further_.  
Announce from the highest roof,  
'I'm a criminal.'

You've heard what I've said  
And yet you don't. Perhaps now,  
You're looking my way.

Perhaps I'm trying too  
Hard. You're the best and the worst  
To happen to me.

We're peas in a pod.  
Thanks to you, I can poke and  
Expect your punches.

I regret nothing  
For 'love means never having  
To say you're sorry.'

On that sappy quote,  
I'll finish what you want. I'm  
Losing track of time.

As the papers scream,  
The mayor might lastingly  
_Step down_ mañana.

Let's test your limits.  
Try saving _both_ if you can,  
Lady and mayor.

And do surprise me  
Because if you're boring then...  
Just don't be, okay?

I'm not in the mood  
To find someone else. I have  
_Other_ agendas.

Well I'm signing off.  
Here's to our splendid future.  
Ever yours: Joker.'"

Bats damn must read it.  
It takes effort to make a  
_Masterpiece_ like that.

Now what next...? Yeah, her!  
"Rachel" alone in the den,  
Can't keep her waiting!

She won't die so soon.  
I said she'll live more and I'm  
"A man of my word."

Returning should get  
Her heart racing. Work's done so  
Together, we'll _play_.


	6. VI

Nerio – I'm honored you think it is. Thank you sincerely.

ledgerlove, moonservant, Daydreaming Nightwalker, hayly baby, MartenKeeper – Thanks for liking the Joker haiku so much!

Anon. – Thanks for your patience (writer's block does SUCK). That's why I was unsteady with this chapter. I tried to link it to canon events while filling in the gaps between and that was sorta difficult. With that letter, very true about Batman and Dent panicking over it, at least over what's implied.

CompleteSolitude – The one here will be moreso!

Mydnyte Houre – Wow no one's ever said that of my writing. Thank you very much! And I do try to be as unique as I can in my fanfiction. :)

The Magic Trick – Hmm...I never thought of the Joker's chapters being Poe-like but I see your point. Yeah, that's what I was trying to aim for with alternating Joker and Rachel's POV in chapters: to demonstrate how one's chaos and the other's order or something along those lines.

The Phantom Lady, Kendra Luehr, talking-hat – Thank you for reviewing. :D

xheartxcorex – That quote comes from the film "Love Story" and I thought since "The Dark Knight" has the Joker quoting from a romantic film like "Jerry McGuire" ('you complete me'), I wanted to have something like that too. ;)

miss coconuts – Actually I would think saving the mayor would be easier for Batman and Gordon since the Joker left evidence unlike with Rachel as he told _nobody_ where she is...

Amaruk Wolfheart of the Wraith – Glad to know I got you liking the haiku format. Thanks! :)

Rachel – To answer your first question...it's complicated. Because I want the story to be realistic, much of it will be subtle, perhaps implied (I don't want Rachel to develop Stockholm Syndrome either). As for the second question, I just thought haiku was similar to the Joker's speech/thought patterns in that both have awkward breaks and are (figuratively) very brief in length.

wolf firez – Funny in a good way or bad way?

Kit – I'm touched that you're inspired by my writing and I thank you deeply as a fellow writer. I like Rachel as a strong woman too. I don't see her breaking so easily in a situation like this because she's been in similar tight spots before.

DisturbedBeauty – Thanks! The letter was fun to write. :)

Thank you to everyone else as well! This chapter was challenging so I hope it came out all right.

Recently, I drew a cover for this fanfiction. Remove the asterisks from the link and there it is:

h*t*t*p*:*/*/*m*u*l*t*i*c*o*l*o*r*.*d*e*v*i*a*n*t*a*r*t*.*c*o*m*/*g*a*l*l*er*y*/*5*3*3*2*3*2*5*#*/*d*1*k*6*h*m*r

I want to tell you all there's a twist in this chapter, based on a minor detail from the previous one. I won't say anymore other than that the fact that I wasn't specific on it might majorly impact the story. Enjoy!

**VI**

Many hours of entrapment equal regret. There's no way of dodging it. I regret I rely on wall clocks to the extent that I do. Otherwise, I would wear a watch and know what time it is, rather than perpetually guessing it. But how can I read a watch when the far outline of my hand is all that's visible? Another regret I have is one I can't control. I _really_ regret the Joker has extensive yet cryptic knowledge on sadomasochistic bondage gear. I would've broken it loose if it were a flexible material like rope; however, the pieces binding me are solid, blistering metal and the one on my feet weighs a quarter of a ton. Most of all, I regret that the longer I'm left to stew over the negatives, the colder any positives seem to grow.

Focusing on the positives of a situation is what I've learned to do for many years to keep my faith in goodness healthy. In situations bad as here, there are positives to be thankful for. For instance, I'm thankful I have the common sense not to stuff my face where food is served. And so bathroom issues aren't a problem...yet. I only sampled the appetizers at Bruce's party and that was ages ago. Hence, there's no issue to have there but when it _does_ become an issue...I don't wish to dwell on it. I don't know whether I can suppress the urge...I don't know if the Joker's even coming back...

I subsequently remind myself that it's nonsense the Joker would desert me to rot. He still requires me to act as his pawn to lure Harvey. Dear god, I hope Harvey's okay. It's another matter to have us _both_ somewhere hellish, praying for rescue…he must be okay for the sake of Gotham and my sanity, Bruce as well. I can deal with being a hostage; I might get out alive.

Sure enough, the Joker confirms my inner suspicions and bursts through the door in all his grungy glory. He strides vainly, puffing his chest and humming a simpering tune that would cause a cat to vomit. No doubt he's having a ball which likely means my situation's going to be the epitome of "not good." Correction: it's _always_ a signal for pain when someone like the Joker is this happy. Hell, I ought to see a swat team or the Batman instead if things are honestly turning cheerier.

I observe my tiny sliver of outside as much as I can until the door obscures it away. No sunbeams found, darkness replaces them; it must be nighttime. The Joker had been gone the whole day doing god-knows-what and that also explains why I feel incredibly exhausted. More than I should be feeling; I've remained fixed here indefinitely. Maybe my body's giving up due to stress?

The Joker paces along to meet my limp form. "They're searching for you," he shoots, "the whole city police...at least the ones not part of the mob." He snickers somewhat, following his quip.

"I didn't tell them where you are," the Joker later affirms less frivolously. "That's for them to find out. And I _won't_ tell until..." Pausing in suspense for the hundredth time, he thrusts his hand in my direction, vibrating it a tinge so he exhibits the aura of a conductor commanding some grand musical composition. The muscles in my jaw clench; if he thinks I'll cooperate to his egocentric machinations now like a mindless puppet then go _screw_ him.

The Joker scowls in disappointment and drops his hand, flopping it loosely to his side like an asphyxiating fish while whining, "Come on, you know, I've said it." He halts to officiously clear his throat. "'Until the Batman turns himself in like any self-righteous, law-breaking criminal,'" he proclaims with the finesse of a stereotypical politician.

"He's not a criminal," I mutter loudly for the Joker's ears to detect. Yes, saying the Batman's not a criminal is implausible because he's technically a vigilante in the law's perspective but what else can I do? The scenario the Joker suggests of placing the Batman, _Bruce_, and himself on equal footing is more than I can stand. So be it that the only type of weapon I have to wield is verbal.

"Really?" remarks the Joker, feigning surprise. "How is he any different than me?" He lifts his hand again and demonstratively counts his fingers. "We dress in a theme. We break the law. So how is he any different?"

"He cares about people," I snap, "unlike _you_."

The Joker gives me a once-over. "My, aren't you tired? Were you trying to escape your restraints?"

Offended by the Joker's taunting, I wearily glare daggers at him and he shrugs. "Don't bother looking for keys. I...threw them in the reservoir," the Joker finishes, wearing a mischievous grin.

I wheeze out a sigh. He's got to be kidding me. There go my aspirations of him reconsidering. He's got no intention of freeing me, does he? He's going to detain me forever to infinity in this place, how _delightful_.

"Only a bomb can break this through," says the Joker matter-of-factly, nudging the metal bar connecting my legs with his foot. A lopsided smile cracks across his face. "Would you like me to fetch one?"

I immediately tense, sobering to the Joker's capabilities and what he represents. I blindly shake my head. "No...no..."

The Joker shakes his head too, his amusement contrasting my anxiety. "What'll it take to revive that spark of yours?" he distantly contemplates.

Flicking that ominous knife of his into view, the Joker twirls it with his fingers pondering. He then pouts and lowers the knife, bumping it over my collar-bones and leaning it against the seam of my dress. He tugs the knife down the center, peeling apart the fabric shielding my breasts. My breath uncontrollably hitches for I realize where this could proceed. I forgot he could do _that_.

"Ah yes," the Joker says gleefully and clicks his tongue, "I might've known." He slices the dress further, approaching my navel. I flail heedlessly in the danger of getting slashed. I won't let him rape me!

Onward I resist, regardless of the Joker seizing a fistful of my hair and undoing the bun it was in. Shoving me near, his voice adopts a milder, dare I mention _sensual_, edge which soothes me since it's not as brutish and I stop to listen because he ceases his would-be ravishment. "You know, I heard when a human is...'x'-shaped...for too long...flesh melts off their bones.

At my hushed bewilderment, the Joker clinically nods. "It does. Gravity settles in…and it _drips_ off…" His gruffer utterances tickle the fine hairs on my neck. "…like a _Popsicle_."

Before I'm able to comprehend what he's implying, the Joker wraps his lips directly onto my pulse. If that's not a shock to the system then his ravenous tongue certainly implements it, stroking me with such fervor, I whimper. How…how can a mouth be that scorching? Ridiculous, absolutely _ridiculous_, and I can't think coherently because the Joker begins tasting every inch of my flesh. He's well aware he's setting my nerves on fire; he's giggling as he does it.

Desperately, I bend back just to slow the Joker's assault or devouring or however the hell it's properly called. Big mistake: it serves the Joker better leverage, resulting in him gaining total access and me in an uncomfortable arch of the spine. What prevent me toppling heels over head are the blasted handcuffs. Even though the cuffs establish their guaranteed assistance, the Joker slithers his arms around my waist, clutching both shoulder-blades to prop me upright. His grip's warmth soaks through my flimsy dress, more than a match for the scalding bites and sucks being applied to my throat.

I'm gasping, gasping, wanting to cry, scream, nothing works. I - can't - _breathe_. Make him stop! His mouth is _burning_ me!

The abnormal torture mercifully concludes in one last sticky lick upwards, coating my skin fresh with saliva. Eyelids closed and wet, I gulp down the air made available. I fleetingly share the Joker looks past blurry lashes when his tongue hits my chin. The spectacle of his large eyes, glazed and expectant, frightens me so much out of my wits that it's amazing I don't have a heart-attack on the spot.

Slurring his pleasure, the Joker towers his weight in a dominance resembling a wild beast's. "Mm…" He smacks his lips; trickles of drool glisten from their stitched corners. "I'll eat you alive."

"Y-You pig!" I sputter.

The Joker vigorously laughs. "That's what I want to see." His hand extends to cup my cheek but I squirm and delay him. Never have I felt so violated. Laughter roaring to a fierce peak, the Joker claws steadily at my hips, nestling himself between my legs. My writhing about doesn't aid me a scrap of improvement. It increases his excitement to be blunt.

Cringingly weak are the protests I howl during the full duration. "_Don't_! D-Don't...touch me!"

"How's Dent with you?" the Joker asks suddenly in the midst of lecherously massaging one of my thighs. "The way he decked Rossi in the courtroom," he whistles, "_he_ can't be gentle."

Like nitroglycerin, my renewed temper explodes upon impact from the Joker's recent insult towards my fiancé. "You son of a -"

Then I'm cut off, quite literally. How quick I dismiss that the Joker carries a knife each waking minute. Silenced by a blade substituting for a finger, I retain my furious gape, frozen to a stupor. Soon, said blade is removed and my mouth quivers, all that's necessary to spill a dollop of blood from the once-invisible cut.

"Dent's no so-called 'knight,'" the Joker states, assessing me with purpose while jadedly smiling. "He's not incorruptible. No one is.

Utilizing the knife to scoop some blood from my lips, the Joker nonchalantly laps it up. He pokes the blade's sharp point straight on my chest prior to speaking, giving me a cruel jab as he emphasizes certain words. "I'm willing to _bet_...I can get you to _betray_...everything you _claim_ you stand for." He slants his head unblinkingly. "That's what I'll do with this entire world...best to start sometime.

"Guess what?" The Joker's eyes bulge in eagerness, scars undulating courtesy of his wavering mouth. "It starts..._now_, pumpkin."


	7. VII

XxNadsxX – The torture comes from the Joker basically messing with Rachel's senses. Being in a dark room for hours on end does things like that to you. As for the handcuffing/binding of feet...well, hearing the Joker compared to the Marquis de Sade spoke for itself. ;)

AtomicTwilight – Heh, thanks. I'm very flattered. About the sexual tension, that was the first time I ever wrote anything remotely like that. I was worried the Joker would come off too much as a cannibal (though it could suit him).

Amaruk Wolfheart of the Wraith – I understand what you mean, being left at a cliffhanger is frustrating. That's why I'm trying to get the stories I haven't finished finished in spite of evil writer's block.

VladCougar – Thanks again for liking the story and the cover! :D

Kendra Luehr – Maybe she would…if the Joker hadn't said the creepiest pick-up line EVER. :P

The Phantom Lady – Oh Rachel won't be anywhere near 'putty' until much later (it's only the first day of captivity after all).

() – Yeah, wouldn't want to be Rachel either. It's so claustrophobic the way she is. Thank you for commenting on the Joker haiku! What you said is exactly what I had intended for it! :)

xheartxcorex – Whoa thanks, lol!

moonservant – What the Joker does to Rachel will get worse two chapters from now…

xxcherryRED, takara410 – Thank you very much!

LaRosaAzul – I don't get fluffy!Joker either. It's like Jabba the Hutt trying to be cute; it doesn't really work. o.O Anyway, thanks for reviewing. Out of curiosity, what do you find most sick about this story so far?

This chapter was FRUSTRATING. I don't know why exactly but I couldn't really seem to get it down in words even though I knew what I wanted to write. Well, now that it's done, I think the next chapter should be up a lot sooner. Thank you to everyone for your patience. Enjoy!

PS to those who story alerted this – I'm deeply sorry about what happened with the mix-up. I took the chapter down to revise it and had no idea how fast story alert really was. Well I'm always learning more about this site's procedures. I promise it won't happen again.

**VII**

Breaking this woman  
Who can't accept her boundaries  
Shall prove _delicious_.

Like tasting her, yum.  
Speaking of which, food is what  
I'll begin us with.

"Are you hungry?"  
She's looking like I have grown  
An extra three heads.

Stubborn broad, it's her  
Loss. I don't care if she goes  
Vampire on me.

I unwrap a bar  
Of granola for her eyes  
To torment over.

The effect's instant.  
We both hear the hungry noise  
She tries to conceal.

It's too funny to  
Resist. I take advantage  
And dangle the treat.

I cackle in zest.  
"Can it _be_? Do you _want_ this?"  
My hand's nearly bit.

Ooh, how desperate  
'Rachel' is getting to be.  
Time for drawing lines.

"Think!" I lecture her.  
"Nothing is free and prices  
Come with everything!"

My ultimatum  
Is this: eat today and starve  
Alone tomorrow.

So I wait for her  
Answer, come on, _come on_, sweets.  
I don't have all day.

Hesitatingly  
She surrenders to feeding  
Right out of my hand.

She's so into it.  
Without care, she nibbles at  
My empty fingers.

I release a moan.  
Soon, said fingers are spat out  
Like they're turpentine.

Nothing more to add  
Onto her embarrassment.  
It's enough for now.

Despair needs to build  
In her while in solitude  
If this will progress.

As I go, she yaps  
Something about bathrooms and  
Whether she will reek.

Beggars can't be choice,  
Neither I for her _highness._  
Not like we share space.

I close and lock the  
Door as a scampering blur  
Rushes its way by.

Final touches are  
Placed to the mayor's demise.  
Chaos doesn't sleep.

Everything is set.  
The city guardsmen are tied up  
Like helpless children.

The commissioner's  
Wake is held at dawn. Mourners  
Drown in self-pity.

Too extravagant,  
It all is. Wonder how they'll  
Afford the next death.

But it is fitting.  
A death at a funeral  
Is one expected.

Mayor gives a speech.  
"Great man, blah, blah." S_omeone's_  
Penned their eulogy.

And where is the Bat?  
What, he too busy angsting  
Over his love-toy?

Too busy for ME?  
Bastard, when I say he'll jump,  
It'll be how high!

He's going to pay.  
All are MY puppets, MY game,  
_ME_ who pulls the strings!

The gun salute's ready.  
So am I, about face twice.  
"Ready, aim, fire!"

Blood-blooming mayor  
Gratifies my trigger itch.  
Shrieks bring _ecstasy_.

My muscles flare from  
Snuffing the candle of fate.  
I'm what's certain left.


	8. VIII

Kendra Luehr, NightDragon8 – Thanks for liking it! Again, sorry about the long wait!

LaRosaAzul – Oh no offense taken or anything, I understood what you meant. :) It's just no one's ever called any of my fanfics sick in either a good or bad way so I was just curious is all. I'm actually glad you did call it that for I'm dealing with a gritty subject and it wouldn't be right if it was thought otherwise. Thank you!

MuffinsNMalice – I so agree with you there! The Joker's definitely a show-off. ;)

CompleteSolitude – I never thought about that, hmm. For me, Joker's POV and Rachel's POV are so entwined in how they balance each other out that I can't really choose a favorite either. Ah well, maybe it'll get clear in later chapters...

The Phantom Lady – Wow, lol. Thank you very much! :D

Anon. – Yeah, I'm suffering from writer's block most definitely (probably due to school work of course). Glad you liked it. :)

Nerio – It's not repetitive, what you said. I can never be too sure of this kind of thing. This is the first time I wrote a story like this in poem format so I wasn't sure if it would be successful. I appreciate the fact you find it well written. Thank you.

DisturbedBeauty – Thank you for liking the Joker haiku!

And thank you to everyone else for your patience! I'm so amazed that this story actually got over 100 reviews and over 10,000 hits! :D

This chapter has no Joker in it sadly. Next chapter will, I promise. :) This one's more of a reflection of Rachel's mental state; this is really where she's starting to crack from the pressure.

Enjoy!

**VIII**

In the confines of my head, I curse the Joker to death with every foul word I know, aiming them symbolically at the back of his cranium until he vanishes and leaves me solo to endure what's assuredly day two of hostage hell. I feel like such a fool for putting into practice the phrase "eating out of someone's hands," specifically the Joker's hands. Damn him…damn how he got me hook, line, and sinker and damn that he enjoyed it. All because of my insufferable hunger; I've never went so scarce in nourishment for this long ever. My gastric cramps are causing me to lose focus on anything else as they gradually tear apart my insides. Even the blood crusting over my mouth and chin is of no concern to me now.

Worse still is the information the Joker "provided" me with about my condition. Now there is a whole new disturbing reason for my aching, outstretched arms. It isn't merely fatigue. In fact, it might be the real death of me yet. I growl in frustration to ease my lonesome self. That fricking Joker! He has me set upon a time constraint in more than what he'll potentially do to me. If I don't get out of here _quick _in the next couple of days, then -

I stiffen. I can hear it: a shuffling sound, foreign to my ears and sharpened by the dark. I can't make out what it could be besides feet and more feet. Oh, but it gets louder, clearer, in time with my pounding heart. Why are the most ordinary noises so frightening when hidden from view?

Then a warm furry _something_ rubs my ankle...

Heart leaping out of my ribcage, I rush my gaze downwards to locate the intruder.

It doesn't take long. Only a few inches high, it peers up at me. Its glistening eyes are visible despite the black surrounding them. Crackling, twitching limbs and occasional squeaks make the rest of it known to the ears and thus to the eyes.

I know I shouldn't be this shocked. The Joker is no neat-freak; he's the dirtiest thing alive, no comparison. Of the ways to confirm it to me though…of the ways to drill that fact inwards…after what I'm enduring with hunger and possible collapse of my body…why, god, _why_ does it have to be a disease-carrying, sewer-dwelling _rat_?

My initial reaction to such a animal is delayed by numbed disbelief. I blink and gawk, hoping that what I see is a mirage created by fatigue for a cruel gag. The rat is obviously of sounder mind yet it keeps looking on like it is waiting for me to respond.

"…_NO_!"

The staring contest is cut to a draw by the crazed shriek that I have been withholding right from the beginning of my misery. A chain reaction unfolds as the rodent mimics the noise in a shatteringly higher pitch. Its induced fright puts it off-guard, giving me the opportunity to kick it away with the toe of one of my free feet.

Panic prevents me from moving the rat any further than it is. Instead, my failed attempt awakens its vicious side and it sinks its teeth into the offending appendage, tearing the nylon stocking. Another wail escapes me from the painful sensation of my flesh being gnawed on. But even in the wretched state I'm at, that very pain somehow strengthens me; I clumsily succeed in trapping the rat's squishy torso directly under my heel. With visceral fury, I grind the heel's end into the rat's belly. What matters is that it has to_ die…_

Minutes go by. The rat struggles, chokes, and then gives up the ghost through its dilated eyes. I should be satisfied I killed it. I _want_ to be satisfied. It attacked me and I did what I had to do. However, my own former words overwrite the flimsy censorship that's denial: "revenge is about making yourself feel better."

Down topple the pillars supporting everything I believed, everything I had forsaken, all in a overwhelming millisecond. I view into the rat's mortuary stare and see myself there, helpless, dead. I only thought about how _I _felt and what_ I_ wanted. I'm no better than the Joker or any other heartless criminal. I…I took a life…and enjoyed watching it fade.

I shove the rat's body away in self-disgust with the side of my foot, hearing it collide audibly against the wall. I heave dry, rattling sobs from my chest, paying no heed to the fresh blood dripping out of the stinging gash on my foot. No tears will come; I'm too tired to cry. All my energy is spent on feeling internal hurt as to external hurt. And why should I focus on the external when I know goddamn well the Joker bastard will take care of that and then some?

Damn it all to hell, I can't think. I guess I should call it "lights out" and discover if the Joker will keep his promise to feed me…or hurt me…wait.

_Wait_. There's no way I can do that. Harvey…he's waiting for me. He's _calling_ for me. We have so much to do, we still have things to do for our future. An engagement isn't complete until you tie the knot. What of our wedding? What'll that be like? Do I get to see it? Do I deserve _that _at least? Oh, at least let me see Bruce for god's sake! I need someone, anyone! _Please let me speak to somebody_!

…Please…I don't want to die...yet...


	9. IX

Hello everyone. I'm aware that it's been two years since I last updated this fanfic. Life got in the way and messed up the direction I wanted to go in writing-wise. And since I didn't want to mess up what I already had, that's why I've been putting off finishing it.

I don't know when I'll update again to be honest. I'm just glad I'm able to finally post something that I'm satisfied with. But I do know now where I'm heading with the last 3 chapters after this one and how this fanfic will officially end. To all those who have been waiting this whole time, I sincerely thank you. Enjoy.

Kendra Luehr - Glad you found the scene with Rachel and the rat not too weird. I wasn't sure if that scene was going to be a natural fit with the rest of the story.

Spirit414 - I'm happy that you liked reading Rachel's POV. I've noticed that not many people like her character so it's good to know that I did it justice.

Three Faint Calls - Thank you for finding the Joker scary! I could never see him as sweet or fluffy when I was watching the movie. He just scared the hell out of me lol.

Simsim1705 - I'm flattered that you think so highly of the way I've portrayed the Joker here. It hasn't been easy trying to capture his mental state.

batfan, UnstoppableSkyflyer, DisturbedBeauty, Vamirii - Thank you for your comments. :)

**IX**

The power a few  
Shakes have on rattling such  
A snow globe city.

After the mayor  
Croaked, so many rupture in  
Mass panic attacks.

Suicides, things once  
Swept under the rug: dozens  
Are making them trends.

Some try finding blame.  
They believe scapegoats can save  
Their crumbling facades.

Particularly  
Wanted is a captured bat  
Which I understand.

The Bat's been a tease,  
Acting my contrast and when  
I need him, leaving.

Or should I say _Dent  
_As I learned from a conference  
Used as his mouthpiece?

So Dent equals Bat.  
It's the type of sane answer  
That drives me _crazy_.

For stringing me down  
Depths so dull, it's time I tied  
Any loose ends left.

One night should do it.  
A two-way assault that'll  
Leave Gotham a husk.

It's the least I can  
Give to the citizens, Dent.  
Matching scars - like mine.

And what of the mob?  
They've had their fun, played their parts.  
But as parts, they're through.

They got boring fast.  
So BORING in their small worlds,  
The same as the rest.

Well, that's why I'm here.  
I fire up their worlds when  
I finish with _hers_...

The streets are blocked though.  
Increased patrol, a quirk of  
Scared masses fleeing.

Good to know then  
That sewers are an option.  
They're more like myself.

Steps go by and I  
Pant in anticipation.  
It's been _far_ too long.

Upon entering,  
Bodily stenches greet me  
From where their source can't.

Moonlight from outside  
Traces a puddle under  
Both her parted feet.

Yes, 'Rachel' doesn't  
Seem herself today. Her head  
Remains hanging low.

I soon get the itch.  
I yank at her hair until  
I see her eyes blink.

She registers me  
As dully as a zombie  
Would and nothing else.

She's not even scared  
Like before. To hell with it.  
I'll show her _true_ fear.

"Sweets, you're making me..."  
I grope around my pocket.  
"...feel like a stranger."

My thumb flicks just once  
And the lighter's flame doubles  
Itself in her gaze.

Air rushes past her  
Lips, terror reviving her.  
Does this mean I'm God?

In some ways, I am.  
I limited this woman  
To only four walls.

Life as she knew it  
Has been captured in a box  
Where I'm her focus.

However, I don't  
Own everything yet. Her will  
Keeps me out of reach.

Dragging the lighter  
Across her arms sharpens it,  
Reminds her to fight.

Let her struggle then.  
I've conquered more challenges  
Than she could equal.


End file.
